


The Killing Moon

by BrightBlackTrees



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Police, Astrology, Attempted Kidnapping, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everybody's favourite trope, F/M, Kidnapping, Let the intrigue and sexual tension commence, Moody Ben, Murder Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paganism, Private Investigators, Stubborn Rey (Star Wars), Violence, Welcome to the crime thriller detective au thats been haunting my dreams, When in doubt SAGE IT OUT, Wicca, all the snark, mention of institutional racism in the police, mention of marijuana, mention of mild drug use, mentioned childhood trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29314149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightBlackTrees/pseuds/BrightBlackTrees
Summary: DI Rey Johnson is the rising star of D’Qar Road’s CID branch of the Metropolitan Police force in London - and she’s got her sights set high. When her DCI, Poe Dameron entrusts her with her first ever solo investigation into a missing persons case, she is ecstatic and sets out to prove her worth to her superiors and colleagues alike.But there’s one small hitch in the road to greatness: a meddlesome Private Detective by the name of Kylo Ren, who just so happens to be working her case too.As the circumstances of Jannah Calrissian’s disappearance become ever more mysterious and sinister, Rey and Kylo are forced to team up in order to crack the case. The clock is ticking and, little do they know, the killing moon is coming...
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	1. First Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently when you decide to go sober for the month of January, you become keenly aware of how much spare time you have on your hands (or at least I did.) This leads to you finally drafting that crime thriller au you've been thinking about for a year (or at least I did.)
> 
> I am **_so_** excited to finally share this work! I really hope you enjoy it. Please pet my fragile ego and let me know via comments/kudos if you did <3
> 
> Oh, and keep an eye on the tags... they like to change.  
>    
> **Let's do this pink panther shit**

_ In starlit nights I saw you  
_ _ So cruelly you kissed me  
_ _ Your lips a magic world  
_ _ Your sky all hung with jewels  
_ _ The killing moon  
_ _ Will come too soon _

**\- Echo & the Bunnymen**

* * *

When her radio alarm clock crackled to life at 6:30am, Rey had already been awake for at least half an hour, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. A crooning lament sang to her at low volume over the airways, doing very little to drown out the sound of her flatmate, Rose’s, snoring. This had been the reason for her wakefulness: Rose had been known to break the sound barrier when she was getting in her eight hours after a particularly gruelling shift at work, but Rey didn’t begrudge her that. As an A&E nurse, Rose’s job was stressful and made up of long, unsociable hours, so Rey figured that the girl deserved a good kip whenever she had the opportunity.

Rey’s standard work day was more forgiving, the typical nine to five being her allotted time frame, although it was rare that she ever stuck to it. As a Detective Inspector for the CID of the Metropolitan Police force, there was always extra paperwork to be filed, always another lead to chase down and on occasion, when she was doing field work for an active case with her DCI, Poe Dameron, she was pretty much obliged to indulge whatever whim the investigation chose to throw at her at any given time. These particular days, while both physically and mentally exhausting, were her favourites on the job; it made her feel good to be doing something real, hunting down wrong-doers and cheats and violent criminals and holding them up to the scrutiny of the law. The in-between days, filled mostly with data input and admin, were far more common and frustratingly dull.

Rey had wanted to be a police officer since she was six years old, specifically in the Criminal Investigation Department. It had taken years and years of hard graft and study to get to the place she was today, but she wasn’t nearly done yet. It wasn’t that she coveted Poe Dameron’s job, more his job title. There was always room for more than one DCI in the department, of course, and DCI Dameron excelled in his profession. Slick, confident and highly instinctive, he had been a good mentor to Rey in the three years she had worked at D’Qar Road station. But as the desk work mounted up, she couldn’t help but feel the itch to get out into the field more and do what some would call ‘actual police work’ - though she resented the phrase herself, begrudgingly having to admit that a great deal of police work would always involve prepping case files for courtly transactions. Still, she had set her sights high a long time ago. One thing that could be said for Rey Johnson was this: she fully intended to save the world by catching the bad guys.

She just needed a promotion first.

Stretching her arms above her head, and letting out an involuntary squeak as she did, Rey scooted up in bed and leaned back against the headboard for a moment, allowing herself an indulgently long yawn before throwing the duvet covers off her pyjama-clad legs and padding out of her room towards the bathroom. The air in the small house was cold, the year approaching its end, and the winter weather had started to descend in earnest now as September turned into October. She did a little hop-skip-jig on the tiles to keep herself warm while she waited for the shower to reach temperature, then dove in for dear life, clutching herself as the jets of blissfully warm water enveloped her body.

Rey hated the cold. Ever since she had been a young child and spent several days in an empty house with no heating and very little food, she had craved warmth as much as possible, always taking full advantage of the central heating in her subsequent rented homes as an adult and hang the expense. You couldn’t put a price on comfort, she told herself. Thankfully, Rose wasn’t one of those people who minded the extra digits on the bill.

Once she was clean and wrapped in a fluffy towel, she returned to her room to dress. There wasn’t strictly a uniform for someone in her position except for looking smart. Her work wardrobe was made up of an assortment of really rather grandiose pant suits in smooth linen and polyester, smart silk blouses, crisp cotton shirts, straight black pencil skirts and form-fitting trousers. It was a collection she was secretly very proud of, because every day as she walked out of her front door wearing one of these outfits she couldn’t help but feel like an absolute lady boss - not that she’d be using  _ that _ term to anyone else, of course. In her downtime, she was mostly a hoodie and joggers kind of girl, because who the hell was she trying to impress at home?

7:15am found her drinking a black coffee out of her favourite mug (an old joke gift from Rose bearing the slogan: ‘ _ I feel safe at night because I sleep with a police officer’ _ ) and checking the morning news on her phone. This was all part of her usual routine; Rey wasn’t what one might call ‘great at time-keeping’ in her general life, always turning up late to the slim list of events in her social calendar, but when it came to getting to work in the morning, her rituals fell on the minute like clockwork. Nothing would stop her climbing the next rungs of her career ladder - not even her characteristic shitty punctuality.

The rest of her morning followed as thus:

7:25am - Brush teeth, put on coat and shoes

7:30am - Leave the house

7:42am - Arrive at the local underground station

7:46am - Catch the tube to Alderaan Square

8:15am - Get off the tube and walk from Alderaan Square towards D’Qar Road, stopping on the way for an almond milk flat white from Dex, the Greek guy who ran her favourite breakfast kiosk

8:33am - Drink aforementioned takeout coffee in the courtyard of the station

8:45am - Start work. (Because starting fifteen minutes early never did a person any harm, right?)

As Rey bumped open the door to CID with her hip, she gave a cursory glance around the room to see who was assembled and who might have been pulling an overnighter. There were one or two folks with their heads slumped over on their desks, either rubbing their temples as if trying to assuage an approaching migraine or just snoring softly beside a cup of cold coffee. Her eyes fixed on Kaydel Connix, a DS she had trained with back at police academy, whose usually sleek blonde hair was now jostled from its customary braid-around-the-head style so that several locks curled around her ears and dangled limply in her face as she ran agitated fingers over her scalp. Rey grimaced sympathetically and made her way over to her friend and colleague.

“Tell me you’ve not been here all night?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Kaydel’s bloodshot eyes peered up at her and it wasn’t entirely clear that she even recognised Rey in this moment, exhausted as she looked. “Is it still the Cantonica Street heist?”

Kaydel nodded, mouth slightly parted with her chin resting in her palms. “Canto Bight Casino. So many names. So many suspects. I  _ know _ who it is, of course…” She rubbed her eyes in a gesture that was half-frustration, half-resignation. “The whole outfit’s run by Kanjiklub - they’ve got fingers in more pies than I can feasibly count up to, which is already giving me grief trying to get them all on one document with cohesive affiliates and evidence.” Rey saw Kaydel’s eyelids flutter and for a moment was worried the Detective Sergeant would pass out. “But it stands to reason that the only group with enough firepower to hold up an entire casino in the middle of the day and get away before armed response so much as reached the end of the road has to be the Guavian Death Gang.”

Rey’s face twisted into a scowl of distaste. “Couldn’t they have gone for a club name that was a little more -”

“Subtle?” Kaydel supplied. “Clearly not. But  _ that’s _ the only thing about them that’s glaringly obvious; these fuckers are fucking invisible. They apparently don’t have fingerprints, hair - any kind of DNA actually, given that there was sweet  _ fuck all  _ to be picked up by forensics at the scene apart from a puddle of piss, courtesy of one of the bartenders when they came in shotguns to the ceiling. I’ve got nothing but  _ circumstance _ !” she finished, raising her hands into the air in exasperation.

Rey placed a hand on her colleague’s shoulder. “DS Connix,  _ go home _ .” Kaydel pouted and her eyes closed in defeat, as if she had been waiting all night for someone to tell her to do just that. “You’ll do your head in if you don’t get some sleep and then you’ll be no use to anyone. Go get some perspective.”

Kaydel snorted a laugh in spite of her tiredness. It had been a running joke between the two of them since their police apprenticeship days: ‘ _ Go get some perspective _ ’ had been something Kaydel had told Rey once about a bloke she had been considering dating. Thankfully, Rey had indeed gotten said perspective and rejected the guy’s advances, which turned out to be a relief when she later found out he happened to have knocked up his ex-girlfriend around the same time he’d been trying to get in her pants. Ain’t nobody got time for that nonsense.

Kaydel nodded slowly, patted Rey’s hand on her shoulder and powered down her computer, placing the array of documents and files in her desk drawer and locking it. Rey moved away towards her desk, letting the woman organise her departure in peace. She would have to text her in an hour’s time to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep on her commute home.

Pulling out her chair and starting up her monitor, Rey logged into her computer and proceeded with her start-of-the-day ritual of checking her emails. She’d been delegated with a stack of paperwork concerning team expenditure, one of her least favourite duties, but it was all part of the job and the more efficiently she managed these menial tasks, the better she would come off in the eyes of her superiors. DCI Dameron knew her well enough to know that she was a dab hand at this kind of fare; it was DSU Organa whom she had to work to impress.

The Detective Superintendent was a stoic, sharp, old woman in her sixties, effortlessly graceful and full of dry wit that often had Rey suppressing a less than professional chortle during weekly briefings. The word was that she had been born into a family of politicians and had stepped into managerial policing without ever working a beat, a fact which some found disconcerting. Admittedly, it could be frustrating to witness someone who hadn’t had to graft their way through life handed the keys to the big office, but that was only when there was a case that the individual didn’t deserve their place or quite understand the nuances of each job role beneath them. Leia Organa, on the other hand, seemed intimately familiar with all the moving pieces and aspects of her department and so Rey could hardly begrudge the woman holding the top job because, to put it simply, she was a fucking firecracker. She had watched recordings of the DSU conducting interviews with suspects over the years and truly had never seen anything like it: the woman could tie knots in any criminal enough to have them either blabbing their secrets or admitting to the falseness of their alibis in a matter of minutes, all while the suspects frowned in bemusement at how their stories had come crashing down around their ears in so short a time.

Yes, it was DSU Organa that Rey needed to impress if she ever wanted to graduate above her rank of DI and she fully intended for that wish to become a reality sooner rather than later.

Her Detective in Chief, Poe, strode into the office at a little after quarter past nine, looking handsomely rumpled in a long grey peacoat and clutching onto a takeaway coffee of his own. His hazel eyes glinted a warm chocolate colour beneath sleepy lids and his jaw was set in a grimace of what looked to be discomfort, dark stubble dotting it like someone had blown a pinch of ground black pepper across his chin and cheeks. Rey might have fancied him once, before she’d learned what it was like to have a professional conversation with him. It wasn’t that he was an unpleasant guy, more that he preferred never to deviate from the point at hand and could be rather snarky when he found a discussion particularly lacking in steam or focus. As she had said several times before, the man was an excellent mentor and a role model of good policing, but that didn’t mean she was always so hot on him.

“Johnson,” he grunted as he passed her desk without looking at her, making for his enclosed annex space towards the back of the office.

“Morning, boss,” she intoned evenly, determined to let no hint of her suspicions that he looked deeply hungover slip into her greeting. He cruised past without looking back and Rey smiled to herself, continuing to type away at her desktop.

She had spoken to Poe about her ambitions not so long ago in her yearly employee review, expressing her desire to rise up further in the ranks.

“I’m ready, chief,” she had insisted. “Ready to get my teeth into something bigger.”

Poe had eyed her across the large oak desk, swirling his mug of lukewarm americano idly. “Remember, Johnson, we’re here to solve crimes and prevent further danger to the public. Everything you’re doing as a DI is part of that process. Don’t rush yourself, and for god’s sake, don’t go looking for the hard cases to come to you.”

She had frowned at that, because what the hell was policing for if she never took on the more intense casework? “But, sir -”

He held up his hand. “Rey, listen to what I’m about to tell you very carefully.” He leaned forwards, propping his elbows on the desk and lacing his fingers, fixing her with a serious gaze. “You’re a model police officer. You’re going to be a DCI one day, I have no doubt about that.” Her heart had fluttered ecstatically in her chest as he had said this but he continued on quickly, seeming to have more to say. “But the key to getting what you want is  _ experience _ . You have to go around the block a dozen times before you’re ready for the kind of work at this level. You have to  _ see things _ , things that no one should have to see. There will be cases that come and go like a flash in the pan and it’ll all seem kind of pointless. Then you’ll get a big one and it’ll stick with you. Do you see what I’m saying?”

She had nodded slowly, brow furrowed as she waited for him to round off his point.

“Every DCI in the history of the CID has that  _ one _ case that makes them, that changes them, makes them harder. Sometimes, you crack it.” He stared intently at her, as though trying to impress his meaning onto her without words. “Sometimes, you don’t. And  _ that, _ that’s tough.” He had leaned back in his chair and examined her reaction. She knew all of this in theory, of course - some cases just didn’t get solved and that was a fact of life; Rey, however, was not the sort of person who would ever give up that easily. Her childhood had instilled in her the conviction that she would never, ever let a criminal get away scot free. Presently, Poe continued his monologue.

“What I’m saying is, your big one will come to you in time and once it does, you’ll be forever changed, okay? Don’t sweat the grunt work for now. You might even miss it one day.”

Rey has snorted in spite of the seriousness of the conversation but nodded placatingly at her boss.

“I get it, chief. Seriously, I do. It doesn’t change what I want though.” 

He had sighed, raised his mug to his lips and spat the cold coffee back at with a scowl before Rey had offered to make him a fresh cup, smiling fondly at him. When it came to mentors, he really wasn’t that bad, but she wasn’t going to let a salt and pepper Gandalf of the Met tell her what it was that she truly wanted. She had made her decision a long time ago, in the empty grey room where a kindly social worker had explained to her on an uncomfortably scratchy sofa why she would never be going home again.

Rey had a score to settle with the scum of this world and nothing was going to stop her from achieving her goal.

The rest of the morning went by steadily as she worked her way through budgets and figures, prioritizing which of the ongoing investigations on her list were worth more financial expenditure. It was something that could not be rushed. At around 11:30am, she was just preparing to stretch her legs by making a hot drink in the break room when DCI Dameron called her name, having emerged from his annex enclosure at the back.

Rey looked up, getting to her feet immediately. “Boss?”

He didn’t speak but gestured for her to come over by way of jerking his head back slightly. She responded immediately, making a beeline for him, though she moderated her pace so as not to appear  _ too _ much of a kiss-arse. She thought for a moment that she saw a flash of a wry smirk on his features at her approach but then he winced and rubbed his temple.

_ Yep, definitely hungover,  _ Rey mused.

Once she reached him, he gestured for her to take a seat opposite his own, though he remained standing himself. She lowered herself down, looking up at him expectantly (though not  _ impatiently _ , she reminded herself, trying to school her features into a more impassive set.) Without a word, he slid a card file across the desk towards her and she placed a palm on its cover, peering at the thickness which couldn’t be more than a few sheaves of paper.

“Sir?”

He inhaled deeply through his nose before speaking. “Well, hotshot. This might be your moment to make a difference.”

Rey’s heart leapt into her throat, fluttering excitedly. She swallowed, trying not to let the thrill that had risen within her so suddenly appears as obvious as she thought it probably was on her face. Poe wasn’t looking at her but the file on the desk, and her fingers pressed into its cover so possessively that it might hold the secrets to eternal youth.

“Go on, open it,” he said gruffly.

Rey did as she was bid and as her eyes scanned the documents inside, Poe related the details to her like an audio description of an ancient artefact in a museum. There was a picture in black and white of a young woman who looked to be in her twenties, with tightly curled hair that spread out around her head in a halo and dark skin which if Rey had to guess would be the colour of rich caramel. She was smiling at the camera, someone out of the shot clutching on to her shoulders; presumably the photograph had been take on a night out of some kind.

“Jannah Calrissian,” Poe began. “Twenty three, resident of Kef Bir council estate. Lives with two blokes around the same age, Mum reported her missing three days ago but she’s not been seen for about a week now. Initial report from the officer who took the statement says she’s a bit of a -” he paused, apparently searching for the appropriate word. “Social justice warrior.”

“What are we talking, environment? Civil justice? Animal rights?”

“More of the Extinction Rebellion type,” he grimaced and Rey was inclined to agree. While she understood the sentiment behind the climate change movement, their protests and pop-up roadblocks in the last few years had caused no end of disruption for the emergency services. “Mum says it’s unlike her to just up and vanish. Though given her persuasion towards a more -  _ tree-loving _ lifestyle, it’s possible that she might have just decided to take a spontaneous pilgrimage to South America or some shit.”

Rey raised her eyebrow at Poe before flicking to the next page which contained a transcript of the initial police statement from the mother, a Ms Whitney Ackie. “No smoke without fire though, if the mother says it’s unlike her.”

“Well, that’s for you to find out,” Poe said, rubbing his stumble and planting his free hand on the desk. “If you’re up for the challenge.”

Rey couldn’t suppress her smile. “A missing persons case?”

“Think you can handle it?”

She was a little miffed at his suggestion that she might  _ not _ be able to, but kept it close to her chest, merely responding, “Absolutely, sir.”

He nodded, satisfied. “Off you go then, DI Johnson.” Still smiling, Rey got to her feet, the file clutched in her hands which were shaking slightly with her excitement. “And Rey,” he added as she started to walk away from him. “Anything you need, my proverbial door is always open.”

She flashed him a genuine smile. “Thanks, chief. I’ll let you know.”

Back at her desk, she placed the file on the surface and opened it up again, scanning through the contents voraciously.

_ Well, well, Jannah Calrissian, _ she thought. _Ready or not, here I come_ _. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes? For context and fun?
> 
> [The song that Rey wakes up to. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWz0JC7afNQ)
> 
> Police stuff:  
> [The Met](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metropolitan_Police) (Metropolitan Police force)  
> [CID](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Criminal_Investigation_Department) (Criminal Investigation Department) and the ranking hierarchy:  
> DS (Detective Sergeant) --> DI (Detective Inspector) --> DCI (Detective Chief Inspector) --> DSU (Detective Superintendent)  
> [How to become a police officer in the UK](https://nationalcareers.service.gov.uk/job-profiles/police-officer)
> 
> Star Wars stuff:  
> [Kaydel Connix](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Dexter_Jettster!>Dex!</a>%20%5Bof%20Dex's%20Diner%20:'\)%20%5D%20%0A<a%20href=)  
> [D'Qar](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/D%27Qar)  
> [Cantonica](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Cantonica)  
> [Canto Bight](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Canto_Bight)  
> [Kanjiklub](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Kanjiklub)  
> [Guavian Death Gang](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Guavian_Death_Gang)  
> [Jannah](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Jannah)  
> [Kef Bir](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Kef_Bir)
> 
> British terminology:  
> ' **kip** ' - a nap/sleep  
> ' **Council estate** ' - an area of social housing constructed by British local authorities where the dwellings in the estate are owned and maintained by the council.
> 
> For those of you wondering, don't worry - Ben will be making his first appearance in the next chapter ;)  
>  **Thanks for reading!**


	2. The Corner Table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ****Mild spoilers ahead for the purpose of emphasising tags****  
>  This chapter contains a *little* bit of violence. No one actually gets hurt but this is very much where the 'Attempted Kidnapping' tag comes into play. Also, Rey is faced with a potentially dangerous situation and utilises restraint techniques she learned in police training. 
> 
> Keep an eye on the tags... they like to change.
> 
> Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the second instalment!

_What moon songs do you sing your baby?_  
_What sunshine do you bring?_  
_Who belongs? Who decides who's crazy?_  
_Who rights wrongs where others cling?_

**\- The Smashing Pumpkins**

* * *

That evening, Rey found herself perched on a stool at the end of a bar - more specifically, her friend, Finn’s bar. _FN-2187_ was a short walk from the tube station and occasionally she liked to stop in to visit him for a catch up after she finished work.

The name of the bar was not particularly easy to roll off the tongue, but Finn insisted that it was the sentimentality behind it that gave it meaning: Finn, like her, was an orphan. They had met in foster care years ago, after his father had been KIA while stationed overseas. ‘FN-2187’ had been the last digits on the soldier’s dog tags which had been the only thing Finn really had left of his father’s.

While she acknowledged that it would be undoubtedly callous to ‘celebrate’ the missing person’s case she had been assigned, she allowed herself to partake in a post-work drink in order to tell her oldest friend that she had been given the extra responsibility, something that Finn knew she had always deeply wanted. He had been the first person she shared her dreams of becoming a criminal investigator with when she was young and, for a time, they had both imagined themselves, in their childish brains, as a crime fighting duo. However, as the years passed and Rey followed the career path towards such a goal, Finn had found other interests - namely, mixology.

He’d had to apply for a hefty loan to buy the place out from its previous owner, but as Finn had worked there for several years already and knew the landlord well, she had given it to him at a relatively knocked down price before emigrating to Ibiza. So, though perhaps a little on the young side to be owning and running his own establishment, Finn had taken to his new responsibility like a duck to water and things were going well for him. Tonight wasn’t exactly a clear indicator of the success he’d made of the joint, as the bar was relatively empty what with it being a Monday night at the beginning of winter, but Rey liked it that way because she mostly had Finn to herself, only occasionally having to break conversation when one of the few patrons approached him for a drink.

“So,” he said, leaning on the varnished worktop and idly wiping down the ale pumps. “Can you at least tell me what kind of case it is?”

Rey grinned, though admittedly she felt a little guilty about it. Glancing around to make sure no one was listening to her disclosing any sensitive intel, she spotted a lone woman in the corner nursing a vodka and coke who was too far away to hear a word she was saying, as well as a very tall figure with tousled dark hair almost entirely dressed in black, seated at the opposite end of the bar with a more or less untouched pint in his hand. Neither of the individuals seemed to be paying any attention whatsoever to her, and the rest of the bar’s inhabitants were chatting among themselves at round tables dotted about the room. Conspiratorially, she leaned in closer to Finn who did the same across the surface between them.

“Missing persons case. I can’t say much else.”

“Man or woman?”

“Woman - _Finn!_ ” she squeaked, smacking his arm as he grinned and straighten up to avoid another blow from her fists. “I mean it, I can’t say any more, it’s confidential.”

“Alright, alright,” he acquiesced, raising his hands in surrender. “It’s pretty exciting though.”

“I mean, yeah,” she said ruefully. “Though I feel kind of bad for saying it. I mean, there’s a girl gone _missing_ , you know, and hopefully she’s fine and this’ll all be over in a week and she’ll be safe and sound but - this could be like, my _break_ , you know?”

“You’ve wanted this for a long time, peanut. Don’t feel bad.”

She grimaced guiltily at him. “Am I a shit person?”

“No,” he replied firmly, fixing her with an intense look. “You’re a really fucking good person. Look at you! Saving the world one case at a time.”

She beamed at him and ducked her head, taking a sip from her drink while she was at it.

The next day, she planned to speak to Ms Whitney Ackie, Jannah’s mother, who had been the one to call in her disappearance. Ms Ackie had called Jannah to make sure she would be available on the morning the report was made and when she hadn't answered her phone, had gone to her flat to find her nowhere to be seen. Rey would have to be on her best game, because while it would by no means be her first witness interview, it would be her first one as an independent case handler and she needed to get the thing right with just the correct amount of serious, to-the-point questioning and sympathetic kindness one should demonstrate to the parent of a missing child. Therefore, she told herself that she couldn’t be playing barfly too late tonight as she’d have to get herself home and well-rested before tomorrow. 

While Finn moved off to serve a gaggle of men who were wittering further down the bar and ordering shots of “Whatever you have, barkeep”, Rey’s eyes drifted to the darkly dressed man seated across the bar from her again. He had straightened up on his stool and was in the process of rolling a cigarette in a pair of very large hands. It almost looked comical, the size of the tiny roll-up pinched between his massive fingers. A curtain of soft, onyx curls hid most of his face from view, save for a long beak-like nose. As she watched, he placed the cigarette between his lips and reached up a hand to push back the hair swathed across his cheek, tucking it behind an ear that was positively Dumbo-sized -

Alright, that had been kind of cruel. As it was, she promptly received her comeuppance for the thought a moment later when the man's gaze suddenly fell on hers as he was fussing with the collar of his woollen trench coat, coaxing it to stand up around his neck against the cold. As their eyes met, Rey felt a sudden and surprisingly intense heat pooling in her abdomen - not to mention in her cheeks. While praying that she wasn’t blushing as much as she felt she might be, she tried to play the look off as coolly as she could, allowing the corner of her lip to curl in a small, (hopefully) seductive smile, and raking her eyes lightly up and down his frame before glancing away. After all, she wasn’t about to completely _ogle_ the guy - that would just be rude. She’d been on the receiving end of more than her fair share of crude stares from men in the past and it was always an unpleasant experience.

 _Hot damn_ though, Tall and Dark was also _handsome as fuck_.

Finn was approaching her again, having served the threesome of men their shots and sent them back to their table with a fresh round of champagne cocktails - because apparently they were celebrating tonight too. He caught Rey eyeing the rim of her drink and said accusingly, “You’ve been eye-fucking someone, haven’t you?”

Rey’s head whipped up, an expression of mortification on her face. Thankfully, she could tell out of the corner of her eye that the object of her previous appraisal had just stepped out of the front door and into the street, presumably to enjoy his cigarette so wouldn't have heard Finn's remark. “Have not!” she retorted.

“You so fucking have, your neck gets longer when you’re acting coy,” he snorted in amusement.

“My - what?” she spluttered and he laughed good-naturedly at her.

“You do this thing where you make it longer, like you’re trying to show off the angles of your face more,” he explained, glancing towards the door that had just swung shut. “Was it Keanu Reeves over there?” he asked, cocking his head.

She rolled her eyes, feeling sorry for the guy. “He doesn’t look like Keanu Reeves.”

“Come on! Same hair, pale -”

“He is _way_ better looking than Keanu Reeves.”

Finn looked scandalised. "Are you telling me you don't find Neo from the Matrix sexy as all fuck?"

Rey shrugged. "He's kind of - _meh_." He shook his head in disturbed disbelief.

“Are you going to speak to him? Should I make myself scarce?”

“No,” she said in a warning tone, letting the vowels drag out. “I can’t afford to fuck around at the moment, I’ve got a lot to focus on.”

“One night, Rey!” Finn insisted, cocking his head at her encouragingly.

“One night with one very big day tomorrow? I don’t think so.”

“Who says anything needs to happen tonight? It could be a bit of fun to save for later, a little pat on the back further down the line for a job well done!”

“Jesus Christ, Finn,” she groaned, covering her face in embarrassment. “Let it go before he comes back.”

“Let me ask you this, sister,” he said, leaning in again and fixing her with a sharp look. “How long has it been?” When she drew in a long, deep breath by way of response, he persisted, “ _Rey_.”

She mumbled something into her palm and he tilted his head, prompting her to repeat herself more loudly, “Two years.”

Finn recoiled, an expression of deepest distaste marring his features.

“Honey, if you don’t remedy that situation soon, it’s gonna be like the Sahara down there when you finally get to it.”

“Don’t talk about my fanny like that,” she whispered sharply, pointing a finger at him and glancing around. “I’ve been - _busy_.”

“Not in the _correct_ way,” he reprimanded her, something sage and knowing about the look he gave her. “All work and no play makes Rey a thirsty girl.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please can we change the subject?”

Mercifully, by the time the tall stranger reentered the bar, they had steered the conversation into much less choppy waters. They continued to chat for another hour or so, Rey deciding to allow herself one more glass of wine and a packet of Mini Cheddars before making tracks. As she pulled on her coat, she noticed that the woman who had been sitting alone in the corner of the bar was getting up to leave as well with a distinctly dejected look on her face.

“Poor love’s been stood up,” Finn mused, eyeing her as she passed them on the way to the door. “Getting a few of those at the moment. Good night!” he called after her and the woman turned and smiled half-heartedly, raising a hand before exiting the bar.

“See,” Rey said, shrugging her scarf more snugly around her shoulders. “Dating’s a fool’s game. Who has time for it, I say.”

“You are going to die an old maid with a lot of money and a lot of PTSD,” he responded while absentmindedly polishing a highball glass.

Rey flicked the foil packet of Mini Cheddars at him that she had folded into a tight little triangle, hitting him square in the chest. “And you’re going to be serving Jägerbombs to hen parties well into your seventies with no money at all.”

“Love you,” he sniffed, kissing the air on either side of her cheeks.

“You too, angel,” she said warmly. “I’ll see you soon.”

Making her way towards the exit, Rey realised that she hadn’t noticed that Tall Dark and Handsome - as she was mentally referring to him - had left the room too. His half-finished pint was still on the bar along with his smoking paraphernalia, but there was no sign of the man himself, so she could only assume that he was out front getting his nicotine fix. Stealing herself to walk past him and straightening her neck - _shut up, Finn_ \- she pressed herself against the front door and stepped out into the street.

She was more than a little disappointed to find that he was nowhere to be seen but half a second later, all thoughts of her would-be mystery man were dashed as her blood ran cold at the sound of a blood-curdling scream.

She froze for only a moment, determining quickly where the noise had come from and springing into action, dashing round the corner of the silent street and towards a narrow jitty at the back of the building. 

Peering into the darkened alleyway, she was shocked and enraged to see two figures struggling several feet away and it was immediately clear that one was a male and the other female - the single woman from inside who had clearly been stood up for a date.

Calling instinctively on her defence training, she called out a sharp warning, “Step away!”

The figures stilled only for a moment, the woman still shrieking and moaning. The male, who she now realised with a sickening jolt was in fact Tall Dark and Handsome, held the woman at arm’s length for a moment before diving into a sprint towards the back of the alley.

 _Oh no you don’t, motherfucker_.

Rey, seething at the fact she’d spent half the night all gooey-eyed over this creep, sprang into a flat out run, and it must have been the adrenaline that enabled her to catch up to his retreating back. She threw herself into an airborne tackle, wrapping her arms around the assailant’s thighs. The force of her attack caused him to fall forward, hitting the ground like a sack - or maybe three or four sacks, the _size_ of him - of potatoes. His chest smacked into the wet ground and she heard him grunt in pain and fury.

“Freeze!” she yelled at him, climbing up his body and digging her knee into the small of his back as she reached into her bag for her taser. The woman behind her seemed to be screaming louder than ever; the man attempted to push himself up on his hands, growling unintelligible things over his shoulder, dark hair tangled all over his face. Rey pressed her knee harder into his back just to the side of his spine, aiming her taser at him now. “I said _freeze_!”

“It wasn’t him, _it wasn’t him_!” cried a voice behind her and frowning in sudden alarm, Rey whipped around to face the would-be victim.

“What?” she snapped, unable to deliver the word with any sense of delicacy in her current situation of incapacitating a man who was arguably three times her weight and size.

“It wasn’t him!” the woman wailed again, pointing towards the end of the alley in the direction the man beneath had been sprinting. “He helped me, he helped me, it wasn’t him!”

The world froze for a moment.

“ _Shit_!” Rey hissed in the most venomous tone of voice she could muster.

“Hey!" the man pinned beneath her barked savagely. "Can you get the fuck off me now?” She immediately relieved the pressure on his back, getting up and allowing him to stagger roughly to his feet as well, all the while dusting his front and sides down with furious disdain. Rey was still holding her taser limply at her side, gazing down the now empty alleyway, biting her tongue in bitter annoyance, when Tall Dark and Pissed The Fuck Off rounded on her.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he spat, getting in her face. “He fucking got away, what the _fuck_ -”

This close up, she could truly appreciate just how large and intimidating he really was.

“Take a step back,” she warned him, trying her level best to call on her peace of mind and not allow the situation to escalate any higher than it already had.

He continued, however, clearly livid. “Do you have any _idea_ what you’ve done, you _absolute_ -”

Gritting her teeth, Rey removed her officer's badge from her inside pocket and waved it in the guy’s face. “DI Johnson, CID. I’d be careful about throwing names around right now if I were you.”

He took a step back, squinting at her badge for a grand total of 1.5 seconds, before his face fell into that of bitter laughter. “Jesus Christ, you enjoyed saying that, didn’t you?”

Rey Johnson was a professional. Rey Johnson did not lose her temper at the scene of a crime. Rey Johnson would not call this guy a cock.

But she thought it. Oh, she thought it _hard._

Ignoring his jibe, she said, “I need you both to cool down and tell me what happened here.” She turned to look at the woman who was breathing heavily, though no longer screaming. “Are you okay?” Rey asked her, but at movement in her peripheral, she whipped back to look at the _cock._ “ _You_ stay there, sir.”

“‘ _Sir_ ’? Yeah, yeah. _Now_ I’m an innocent bystander - now that you’ve put your detective skills to the test and found them _utterly lacking._ ”

A twitch pulsed at the corner of her clench jaw. _Cock, cock, cock, cock -_

“ _Don’t_ speak to me like that - stay there, I _mean_ it,” she warned with as much edge to her voice as possible.

“He didn’t do anything, he saved me!” the woman protested again.

“I heard you the first time, my love," Rey said, taking a deep, calming breath. "No one here is in trouble, I need to make sure that we gather all the facts and get someone to come out and speak to you as soon as possible, okay?” She paused, second guessing herself for a moment. “You _do_ want to file an incident report?”

The woman continued to breathe heavily, eyes darting between Rey and the stranger. Rey watched as her eyes fixed on him for a moment, and she turned her head to see the guy nodding at her. She held up her hand, dancing a tightrope towards infuriated now.

“Do _not_ tell her what to do, please, sir,” she snapped, glaring at him and he met her eyes with just as much fire, throwing his hands up at her sides and muttering viciously under his breath something that sounded like, ‘ _For the love of -’_

Turning back to the woman, Rey fixed a soothing, kindly expression on her face. “What’s your name, my love?”

“Tahiri,” she panted, eyes wide and glassy.

“Okay, Tahiri. You’re safe now. I’m going to call in a unit and if you want to make a statement, we can go to the station together, okay?” Tahiri nodded slowly, her lower lip trembling slightly. “Are you hurt?”

“No, just -”

“Shaken?” Rey supplied and she nodded. Begrudgingly, Rey turned back to the taciturn man behind her. “Sir, would you be willing to come to the station to give us your version of events?”

For a moment, he looked as if he’d rather like to tell her to kiss his balls but then his eyes fell on the tearful Tahiri and he sucked in a deep breath. “Yes, fine.” He fixed his gaze on Rey again, eyes still full of resentful anger. “And what are you going to do about the guy who got away? He can’t be that far -”

“Nothing can be done about the assailant until I’ve made sure that you two are both safely in police custody. We’ll find out what we can and do our best to make sure he’s brought to justice.”

Tall Dark and A Complete Twat actually _rolled his eyes_ at her. Her jaw clenched.

“Your name, sir?” she said through gritted teeth.

His lip was curled in a poorly concealed scowl. It took him a moment before finally answering, “Ren, Kylo Ren.”

 _Fuck me_ , Rey thought. _James Bond, eat your heart out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes? Why not.
> 
> [The song playing in _FN-2187_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=04U8kQPt3dQ)  
> [Mixology](https://www.thespruceeats.com/what-is-mixology-759941)  
> [Dumbo ears (sorry, Mr Driver)](https://www.mickeynews.com/cotm/dumbo/)  
> [Keanu Reeves](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keanu_Reeves)  
> [Mini Cheddars](http://www.ocado.com/webshop/product/Mini-Cheddars/14170011)  
> [Jägerbomb](https://www.thespruceeats.com/jager-bomb-recipe-759713)
> 
> Police stuff:  
> [Taser](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taser) \- to be clear, Rey would not have fired her taser at point blank range; it was more of a warning gesture for Kylo to stay down. The point of a taser is to incapacitate the target, not to cause pain. A 'drive stun' (when the taser is held directly against the target's body) causes a lot of pain without having the effect of immobilising the subject. Police in the UK are no longer trained to deploy a taser in this way. [Here's an article about that.](https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-28413451)  
> List of[firearms](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_police_firearms_in_the_United_Kingdom) employed by British law enforcement and who has authorisation to use them  
> [Methods of restraint](https://www.app.college.police.uk/app-content/detention-and-custody-2/control-restraint-and-searches/#use-of-force) in UK policing
> 
> Star Wars stuff:  
> [Tahiri Veila](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Tahiri_Veila)
> 
> British stuff:  
> ' **fanny** ' - vagina  
> ' **jitty** ' - a narrow lane or path for pedestrians which runs between buildings in old parts of towns and cities. (This one's more exclusive dialect to the Midlands)
> 
> Did I really link references to Dumbo, Mini Cheddars and Jägerbombs? I guess so.  
>  **Thanks for reading!**


	3. He Sounds Like a Scorpio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Hear ye, hear ye!_  
> **  
>  As of next week, this fic will regularly update on Monday nights!
> 
> And as always, keep an eye on the tags... they like to change.

_It’s all a bit of fun until somebody gets hurt_   
_I'll take it with a pinch of salt, another lesson learned_   
_But I don't need to know what's real or not no more_   
_Who gives a fuck about my nightmares_

**\- Easy Life**

* * *

_So much for an early night_ , Rey thought, eyeing the clock on the wall.

She had spent the last two hours drinking tap water and mentally replaying the details of events leading up to finding Tahiri and Ren-Kylo-Ren in the darkened alleyway so that she wouldn’t forget anything when it came time to give her statement. Both witnesses had been taken to separate rooms by the officers on duty and now it was left to Rey to simply wait her turn.

In the police car on the journey to the station, Tahiri had managed to calm down. Leaving the scene of the attempted assault had obviously been a relief for her, and she had thanked Ren profusely as they sat in the back of the squad car together. Rey listened to their conversation from the front passenger seat as a beat officer drove them the short distance to headquarters. Ren, she realised, had an American accent, something she had apparently missed before, what with all the drama. It wasn’t that this information necessarily meant anything, but she found herself tucking it away anyway for future reference - or something.

The man in question hadn’t spoken a single word to her since the on-duty vehicle had arrived and she was more than happy to keep it that way. However, there was still a niggling voice in the back of her head that kept reminding her that she had inadvertently accosted an innocent member of the public - not exactly the kind of thing she’d hoped would go down on her record. It was a fact of life now though, and there were always innocent mistakes to be made. As long as they managed to catch up with the guy who had really tried to assault Tahiri, there would be no harm done in the long term.

This was the story she consoled herself with.

The first of the pair to emerge was Kylo Ren. He cut an imposing figure, dressed from head to toe in black and was, at the very least, six feet tall, angular features pale and dotted with what Rey considered to be a rather unfortunate amount of moles and freckles. She took a deep breath and avoided his eyes while he signed out at the front desk. When he turned, she called on her courage and lifted her gaze to meet his.

He saw her standing a few feet away, watching him and stalked past her towards the exit without so much as a second word or a glance.

Rey balked indignantly.

“Sir,” she said loudly, following him to the automatic double doors. “ _Sir_ ,” she repeated again when he didn’t respond. “Mr Ren!”

At last, he spun on his heel, looking mildly thunderous, though thankfully not as angry as he had been when she’d floored him. He waited, eyeing her expectantly, hands deep in the pockets of his trench coat.

_Well, here goes nothing... except maybe my pride._

“I wanted to apologise,” she huffed, trying her damndest to sound contrite. “I made a mistake. I heard a woman screaming, I saw a man tussling with her - I made a judgement call. I’m sincerely sorry if my course of action caused you any distress.”

 _There_ . _A paragon of professionalism._

Ren eyed her still, digging into his pocket for the smoking tin he had nipped back into Finn’s bar to retrieve before the police had arrived. He began fishing tobacco out of a brandless pouch and sprinkling it into the thin fold of paper.

“Shouldn’t you have apologised _before_ I gave my witness statement?” he asked in a mock-casual tone.

Her brow crinkled. She was no idiot: he was _threatening_ her.

 _Professional, Rey. Professional_.

“Not at all. It doesn’t change what happened. You’re duty bound to tell the truth while on record, as am I. Whether I apologise before or afterwards shouldn’t make a difference.”

“You want to know what I said about you?” he asked as if she hadn’t spoken, licking the little strip of glue at the edge of the rizzla.

_Remember your dignity, Rey, you have a reputation to uphold, please -_

“No. That’s your business. If you wished to make a formal - _report_ concerning my behaviour tonight, that is your right. I just wanted to let you know that I concede the fault -”

“I _wasn’t_ going to tell you but now I think I might as well.” He took a few steps towards her and she was struck once again by how massive he was, broad chest spanning a good portion of her field of vision as he got closer. “I said,” he leaned down, holding the tip of his roll-up just against his lips between forefinger and thumb. “That you should consider going into professional sportsmanship because you’ve got a _mean_ rugby tackle on you.” He straightened and turned his back on her, striding towards the exit with an air of utter nonchalance. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he called over his shoulder. “No hard feelings. Try not to accost any more innocent bystanders in future.”

And with that, he walked out into the night.

Rey’s jaw and fists were clenched, her mind blank with shock. When it finally sputtered back to life, the first thought that popped into her head was decidedly less than eloquent.

*

It took a short amount of time for the duty sergeant to take her own witness statement after she had seen Tahiri into a taxi. The girl had seemed much less shaken than before which was a good sign. She’d thanked Rey for her help - even though it was clear that she seemed somewhat put out that she hadn’t had a chance to catch the _hero of the hour,_ Kylo Ren, on her way out.

“I’m swearing off online dating for a while,” Tahiri had said as they waited in the cool air for the black cab which was apparently just round the corner. “Two hours I sat in that bar like a complete loser and as soon as I leave, I get jumped! I can’t even imagine what would have happened if Kylo hadn’t…” she trailed off, shivering. Rey pursed her lips in agreement. The guy may have been a complete dick, but admittedly he had saved this woman from who knew what terrors.

“I’m sorry this happened to you. I hope the guy who stood you up feels awful,” she replied consolingly.

“I doubt it,” she snorted. “He’s a gemini, completely two-faced. Should have seen it coming really, shouldn’t I?”

Rey smiled mechanically, because fuck if she knew what the woman was going on about.

The taxi rounded the corner and pulled up to the curb. Tahiri climbed in and Rey waved her off, watching the vehicle trundle down the road into the dark night before she headed inside to give her statement.

When a person happens to take statements for a living, they tend to know the best way to give one over speedily. The officer didn’t have a great deal of questions, mostly just letting her recite the highlights of the event before smiling at her and telling her to get herself home and in bed.

It was coming up to midnight by the time she pushed her dirty golden key into the front door and swung into the hallway of the two-floor terraced home she shared with her friend, Rose. Coming in from the November evening cold, she was relieved to feel a wall of warmth rush pleasantly over her exposed skin as she stepped over the threshold. There was a pool of light emanating from under the doorway of the living room and Rey made for it, assuming that her housemate must still be up.

Upon entering the room, she found her friend sitting cross-legged on the threadbare rug in front of the ornamental fireplace, a little metal dish set before her in which some candles, a feather and a stick of incense burned, lazily filling the room with silver grey smoke and the scent of something musky and herbal. Rose’s eyes were closed and her palms were folded together in her lap.

Rey knew not to interrupt her when she was indulging in this kind of practice so she simply entered the room quietly and lowered herself on to the weathered red sofa, waiting to be acknowledged.

“Sage,” Rose said, eyes still closed. “When in doubt…”

“Sage it out,” Rey chimed back.

Rose’s eyelids fluttered open and fixed on the flame of the candle burning before her. She exhaled a steady breath. “Felt some bad juju when I got in. Creepy stuff.”

“Oh dear,” Rey said, quirking an eyebrow. “Did you get rid of it?”

“Too soon to tell,” Rose mused, brow creasing slightly as she continued to stare into the centre of the little yellow flame before her. “But my instinct is telling me, no.”

Rey blinked and pursed her lips. She didn’t necessarily buy into this stuff herself but she always respected her friend’s practice, never wishing to offend. “What kind of juju?”

Rose looked up, directly into her eyes and for a moment, she seemed deeply apprehensive. But then, so suddenly that Rey nearly gave a start, she beamed. “Might be nothing, mate. Just covering our bases.” She leaned down and pinched out the candle at her feet. “How was your day? You’re home late.”

Rey sighed heavily, reflecting on the rollercoaster that had been the last twenty four hours.

“It was… a lot,” she said and proceeded to fill Rose in on all of the events that had taken place, starting with taking ownership of Jannah Calrissian’s missing persons case - sparing the finer details about her identity and the circumstances, of course - before going over the train wreck that had been her evening. Her friend listened with rapt attention, only interjecting when it seemed warranted, to react with congratulations or commiserations or good old fashioned scandalized gasps. She was an exemplary listener, to add to the list of all Rose’s amiable qualities, and she always allowed people to get to the end of their tangent before imparting a perfunctory amount of wisdom to be going on with.

As Rey rounded off her tale, Rose blinked up at her slowly, eyes bright, and a look of amused disbelief played about her pink lips.

“How on earth did you fit all of that in?” she asked, chortling. Rey shrugged and shook her head, smiling in spite of herself.

“God only knows. I’m completely wrung out.”

“Well, after you rugby tackled a giant to the ground, I’ll say!” she laughed, uncrossing her ankles and leaning back on the heels of her hands. “I can’t believe that guy. What a strange, strange man.”

“Tell me about it,” Rey muttered, staring into space at the memory of the moody, hulking figure.

“Say,” Rose piped up suddenly, leaning forward again. “You didn’t get his birthday by any chance?”

Rey snorted in response. “No, it never came up.”

“I just wondered if you had a look at his file or whatever it is you do.” She paused, chewing her lip pensively. “Did he look like a Scorpio to you?”

At this, Rey burst out laughing. “How am I supposed to know what a Scorpio _looks_ like, Rose?”

Her friend grinned back at her in a good-natured self-deprecating sort of way. “He _sounds_ like a Scorp. I bet you anything he is. Displayed some _classic_ tendencies there.”

“Well, thankfully I will never know because I will never, _ever_ see the guy again.” Rey deflated, relaxing at the very thought of putting the night’s events and Kylo Ren far behind her. She sniffed and smoothed a piece of red fluff from the sofa off the knees of her smart trousers. “ _God_ , he was a dick.”

“Mm,” Rose hummed dutifully. “Definitely. Although, having said that, Scorps worst qualities are usually wrapped with their best.”

“How so?”

“Well, typically they’re very creative and highly loyal which also equates to them being better than average at manipulation, little acts of vengeance, that sort of thing. And they’re also particularly honest in nature so if you don’t know them and they choose to serve you some harsh truths -” She shrugged, holding up her hands in a ‘case-in-point’ gesture. 

Remembering something suddenly, Rey said, “What’s the deal with Geminis?”

“The deal?” Rose repeated, brow furrowing.

“I mean -”

“I know what you mean, Geminis are a handful,” she interrupted, waving away Rey’s explanation. “What I mean is, why are you asking?”

“Just something the woman said before she left the police station tonight,” Rey intoned thoughtfully. “She was supposed to on a date, like I said, and the guy who stood her up was, apparently, a Gemini and she kind of said, ‘ _oh, I should have known_ ’ or something. Is that something everyone but me knows or what?”

Rose gave a little quirk at the corner of her mouth which she identified as a knowing smile. “They’re just a little inconsistent,” she said delicately, and Rey had a feeling that she was being forgiving. “I have Gemini friends - quite _a lot_ , now I think about it,” she mumbled with a little frown. “Anyway, it’s kind of a meme that they’re two-faced, that’s all.”

“That dickhead certainly gave me whiplash, if anyone’s got two faces,” Rey grumbled.

“Was he handsome?”

Rey squinted, thinking seriously about the question. “Kind of. Maybe in a sort of avant-garde, muscular, well-dressed kind of way.”

“Maybe if you _do_ ever see him again, you guys can hatefuck?”

Rey wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Finn said he looked like Keanu Reeves.”

“Oh, wow, maybe not then!” Rose exclaimed in alarm. “I thought you said he was avant-garde!”

Twenty minutes later and way, way, _way_ past her bedtime, Rey had brushed her teeth and slipped into her pyjamas, snuggled under the covers of her bed, and was reflecting once again on the sheer weirdness of the day she had just had.

Annoyingly, the one thing she just couldn’t get out of her head was Kylo Ren.

Shifting about beneath her thick duvet, she sighed and attempted to coax her mind into a relaxed state, eyes pressed firmly closed. Unfortunately, despite her exhaustion, her body was still kind of wired.

Letting out a huff of air in exasperation, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Usually when she couldn’t sleep, she’d simply pull the old faithful flicking-the-bean trick and she’d be out for the count. Annoyingly, though, every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was a pale, angular face sprinkled with dark moles and she refused to get her rocks off while picturing _Kylo Ren_.

After another thirty minutes of intolerable wakefulness, however, she decided that she would simply have to work with what she’d got.

Slipping her hand into her underwear, she imagined Ren in a whole host of compromising positions, performing acts of service catering purely to her pleasure - including a particularly exciting fantasy of straddling his stupid face in order to put that smart mouth of his to some good use afterall. It must have been down to the amount of stress she’d been under all day, the reason she came so hard, and as she slumped blissfully into unconsciousness at last, she thought foggily that she might just treat herself to another fantasy of Kylo Ren fulfilling her sexual whims again when she woke up in the morning. Just to start the day right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to make it clear that I don't hate Geminis (or Keanu Reeves for that matter 😭) and I'm sorry for the shade being thrown around in this chapter or any chapters to come *facepalm* I'm purely drawing on generalisations pertaining to certain signs. Having said that, I am the most *Pisces* Pisces that ever Pisces.
> 
> Wasn't it nice to meet Rose?! We love that girl.  
> She was burning [sage](https://wiccanow.com/sage-magickal-properties/), which is sometimes known as smudge when used for the purpose of clearing negative energy from a space.  
> She is also a [Wiccan](https://witchcraft.org/what-is-wicca/) which we _love_ for her.
> 
> Not a great deal of PI Kylo Ren in this chapter... but believe me, soon enough our gal Rey won't be able to shake him (and vice versa honestly.)
> 
> I'll leave it there for now! Hope you all have a fantastic rest of your week <3
> 
> **Thanks for reading!**


	4. Good Cop, Bad Cop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep an eye of the tags... they like to change.

_Sometimes you scrape and sink so low, I'm shocked at what you're capable of_  
_And if this is a coronation, I ain't feeling the love._

**\- My Chemical Romance**

* * *

It was an unavoidable annoyance that she woke up the next day poorly rested and in a rather foul mood, but the thought of Jannah Calrissian somewhere out there in the world while her family were worried about her was enough to lift Rey from her sheets and throw her arse in the shower at 7am. She’d allowed herself a minimal lie-in, as now that she was on leave to do fieldwork at her leisure, she didn’t have to clock into the office between the usual hours of 9-5 if she had more pressing places to be. She planned to go into the department shortly after 9am either way to give the casefile another look over before taking a squad car and driving over to the mother, Ms Whitney Ackie’s address, roughly a twenty minute journey from the police station.

She was too cranky to indulge in that little slice of morning glory she’d promised herself last night but that was probably just as well - the sooner she could forget Kylo Ren and his smug face, the better.

“Heard you got into a little roleplay last night?” said DCI Dameron as he passed her desk later that morning, causing her to spit out her coffee.

“W-what?” she choked at his raised eyebrow.

“You came over all Wonderwoman, from the way Sella down in intake tells it,” he continued, eyeing her. “Said you showed up with a girl who was nearly assaulted and some big guy you’d apparently dropkicked.” He took a sip of his coffee. “How do you plead, Johnson?”

“No one was dropkicked, sir,” she said cooly. “He initially looked like he was the woman’s attacker so I… tackled him.”

“You didn’t tase him though?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

Rey cocked her head at him, unamused. “If I’d tased an innocent member of the public, sir, you know you’d be in a world of paperwork right about now.”

“True,” Poe said, nodding briskly. “Good work. But don’t fucking do it again, alright?” He pointed a finger at her before sidling off towards his annex, leaving Rey even more irritated than she had been already.

Thankfully, the drive to Jannah’s mother’s house was uneventful, with only the usual amount of traffic clogging up the main roads. Parking proved to be a little trickier, so Rey was forced to leave the squad car a five minute walk from the address Ms Ackie had provided her with yesterday. It was a pleasant morning by all accounts, so she tried to use the bright winter sun and crisp air to clear her head and bolster her spirits. She had to be at her best now; this interview could very possibly shape the way this whole investigation would go.

The garden path was lined on either side with neat little flower pots leading all the way up to the front door. The grassy emerald lawn was kept trimmed and tidy, as were the door frame and window panes coated in unchipped varnished white. It was a modest terrace house that the owner clearly took pride in.

Straightening up and taking a deep, soothing breath, Rey reached up and rang the doorbell.

After a short wait, the front door opened to reveal a woman who looked to be in her mid-fifties with hair just as tightly curled as her daughter’s, flecked through with streaks of white and grey. Her face might have seemed youthful for her age if it weren’t for the evident bags under her eyes and the expression of concern that must have affixed itself to her features in the last several days of living without any knowledge of her daughter’s whereabouts. She studied Rey across the threshold wearily.

“Ms Ackie?” Rey asked in a warm but business-like manner. “I’m DI Rey Johnson, we spoke on the phone yesterday.”

The woman nodded tiredly and Rey felt suddenly very guilty for being so grouchy that morning. She took a step inside the small house as the woman beckoned to her, taking care to wipe her shoes on the welcome mat in a show of respect.

“Cup of tea?” Ms Ackie asked, gesturing half-heartedly towards the kitchen directly down the hallway from the front door.

Rey shook her head politely in response. “No, thank you. I’m happy to just get right into it if that’s okay with you?”

They moved into a homely living room, the bay window of which looked out onto the front garden and let in a stream of morning sunlight that washed over the pristine surfaces of the coffee table and sofa cushions, demonstrating once again how tidily Ms Ackie kept everything she owned, not one piece of furniture displaying a single speck of dust.

“I’ve been cleaning a lot,” the woman said, sinking into an armchair beside the bay window. “Needed something to keep myself busy.”

Rey nodded sympathetically. “A lot of people in your position would do the same. On the subject, I did just want to check in with you first. How are things?”

The missing girl’s mother shrugged her shoulders. “Getting by.”

“Did the officer who took your statement last week speak to you about an appointment with one of our family liaison officers?”

“Yes, yes. I’ve got something booked in tomorrow, I think.” She sat up a little straighter. “What I really need though is  _ answers. _ ”

“Of course,” Rey replied, nodding emphatically. “Well, as I explained to you yesterday, I’ll be heading up the investigation into Jannah’s disappearance. Our meeting today is to touch base and also to just go over a few of the things you spoke about in the initial report, okay? See if anything might have come to mind over the last few days and if we can glean a little more understanding as to what’s going on with Jannah.”

“Jannah is a willful girl, always has been, I’ll give you that,” she said in answer to Rey’s speech. “But I know that she would never, ever do this to me without letting me know she was going somewhere. I feel it in my  _ heart _ \- something’s not right.”

“I’m going to do everything in my power to work out what’s going on here,” Rey said understandingly. She was being exceedingly cautious about how she phrased each and every sentence. The fact was, every parent who reported a missing child claimed that it was out of character for their son or daughter to disappear, but the fact was that in the majority of cases, they usually turned up fifteen minutes down the road at a friend’s house.

On this occasion, Rey didn’t wish to insinuate or assume anything. Jannah was a legal adult and if she’d wished to take off for South America, as Poe had suggested, without telling anyone then she was well within her legal rights to do so. However, she had to admit, something about the case seemed off to her too. It wasn’t something that she could directly put her finger on, more a corroboration of feelings and little nuances in the case file that made her brow furrow.

Particularly, she was steering clear of any phrases that promised explicitly to find the missing girl because, while she was still early on in her career in the grand scheme of things, she knew that making vows to crack the case when someone’s life could be hanging in the balance was a sure fire way to get up the hopes of a victim’s family, as well as to leave yourself with a crippling case of guilt and shame at the end of the road if things turned out badly.

Rey began by going over Ms Ackie’s original statement that she had made late last week. She and Jannah had Sunday brunch plans and when she hadn’t shown up or answered her phone, her mother had driven to her rented house-share on Kef Bir estate and hammered the door down until her flatmates, two men in their twenties, had answered in a rather bedraggled state of affairs. Neither claimed to have seen Jannah since three nights ago on the Thursday. In a panic, Ms Ackie had reported her daughter missing straight away.

“I have it here that Jannah’s father is still in the city but you two are separated?” Rey asked, tapping her notebook with the tip of her biro.

“Divorced,” she mumbled. “Jannah kept his name, he kept his sports car and I kept the house.”

“I see. I assume you contacted Mr Calrissian before calling the police?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course. He thought I was overreacting at first but he cottoned on quick enough, wouldn’t stop calling me that evening. Obviously he’d had time to mull it over himself and knew something wasn’t right either.”

“Okay. So you’ve taken me through the events leading up to your discovery of her disappearance and now I’d like to learn a little more about Jannah.” Rey pressed the nib of her pen into the paper pad in her lap, weighing her next words carefully. “It’s really important for me to get a good picture of who she was, what she got up to, her interests, her friends - you get the picture. I’ve already got her occupation down -”

“Front of house staff at a restaurant,” Ms Ackie supplied rather firmly. Rey tried not to let her curiosity show on her face but she jotted down a little note, thinking that it was a rather flowery title to give someone whose job was, in laymens’ terms, a part time waitress at a greasy spoon.

“And I’m also aware that she was quite passionate about her activism,” she went on, leading the woman into an open doorway of thought. “Can you tell me a bit more about that?”

Whitney Ackie pursed her lips at that, none too happily. Rey made another note as she started to speak.

“I don’t know a great deal about all of that really,” she said with evident distaste. “I’ve always told her she can do as she wants, if she thinks it’s for a good cause then fine. But they cause so much trouble, I’ve seen those protests on the news and how they grind the city to a halt - ambulances can’t even get past their roadblocks sometimes and it’s -” She shook her head in disapproval. “I don’t think that’s doing anyone any good.”

“Does she have many friends? A social life or a partner?”

“No, no partners. She had a girlfriend when she was in university but that fell apart.” She waved her hand, dismissing the memory of Jannah’s ex like a fly. “Most of her friends are part of that activist group, you see.”

Rey steeled herself to ask the next question. “And my next question, Ms Ackie, might sound potentially invasive but it’s just something I need to make clear for the purposes of the investigation.” She adopted a relaxed, non-threatening pose. “Whatever you tell me, your daughter won’t be in any trouble. Does Jannah have a history of drugs or alcohol use at all?”

“No,” answered the woman, a little too quickly. Rey appraised her closely. “Well, the people she goes on these marches with… there’s the  _ usual stuff _ , you know.”

Rey smiled gently. “And what would that be?”

“Oh, you know,” she responded somewhat irritably, as though she resented having to explain that her daughter was something of a pot-smoking hippie. “The usual  _ eco-warrior _ stuff. They all go around listening to Bob Marley, don’t they? Trying to embrace their ‘free spirits’.”

“What kind of drugs do you think she was using, Ms Ackie?” Rey asked flatly.

“She wasn’t  _ using _ \- she sometimes came home smelling -  _ herbal _ .”

Rey had had enough of the round robin already. “Are we talking marijuana?”

“Yes,” Ms Ackie exhaled.

“And how much?”

“Not a lot - not  _ regularly _ , just sometimes. She isn’t an  _ addict _ or anything, these people just do these things, don’t they? It’s part of the culture.”

“It can be fairly common amongst those kinds of groups,” Rey conceded. She wasn’t in the least bit concerned that Jannah Calrissian may or may not have dabbled in the occasional bit of cannabis - who hadn’t, after all? What she  _ did _ care about, however, was the sort of people she hung around with and whether  _ they _ were into anything more hardcore which they may have introduced Jannah to. “At the end of the day, anything you can tell me about your daughter is going to help me paint a picture, try to piece together where she might be.”

“Jannah is a free spirit but she is responsible. She wouldn’t just leave, not without telling me. Even if she was in some kind of trouble, she knows she can tell me anything.”

Rey felt very sorry for the woman sitting before her then. The fact of the matter was that most children were a mystery to their parents and any mother or father who convinced themselves otherwise was lying to themselves. Rey may not have a parent of her own who claimed to know her inside and out but she’d had enough experience in CID of rebellious, misguided teens committing offenses their guardians refused to believe them capable of. Still, that wasn’t something she needed to tell this woman while she was so afraid, no matter how much that steely exterior held.

“I think that’s enough to be getting on with for now,” Rey smiled, getting to her feet and slotting her notebook away. “We’re going to be doing everything we can for Jannah. If you hear from her, if you remember anything about the last few days before she went missing, please let us know. I’ll be working exclusively on this case, alright?”

“Well, that makes two of you then, I suppose,” she replied, getting to her own feet and looking weary. 

Rey was taken aback for a moment. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, you and the police force are looking for her, and her father has someone working on it too - privately, an investigator.”

Rey’s face was frozen in a mask of surprise. “Mr Calrissian hired a Private Investigator?” she asked. 

Ms Ackie shrugged, unabashed. “Two heads are better than one, I suppose.”

Pulling out her notebook again, she said curiously, “Do you know the name of the investigator by any chance?”

“He’s an old family friend. Lando’s best friend’s son, Ben Solo owns the business. He even met Jannah once, when she was a baby. I haven’t seen him for years. Lando was insistent, didn’t even want the police involved at first. He doesn’t trust the feds.” She rolled her eyes dispassionately.

Rey smiled mournfully. “I was actually about to ask you where I could find Mr Calrissian; I’d be quite keen to speak to him.”

“Good luck with that,” she scoffed. “You’ll have your hands full there. He’s charming as a snake and stubborn as a bull.”

“How long have you two been separated?”

“Since Jannah was little, a long time. No, we haven’t been together for twenty years or more.”

“And I’m getting the sense there’s still not what you’d call a good relationship between you both?”

Her expression softened slightly.

“Lando’s a good man but his work is his life. He’s a socializer, a high-climber. He loves his daughter but - he was never a family man.”

*

Whitney Ackie had provided Rey with the direct line for Lando Calrissian’s personal secretary. She had placed the call while leaning up against the side of her patrol car, only to be told that Mr Calrissian was a very busy man and that it wouldn’t be possible to make an appointment with him that afternoon at such short notice.

“Could you let him know that it’s the Metropolitan Police seeking the interview?” she asked lightly, imagining the snooty receptionist’s hair curling as she spoke. “I’m Detective Inspector Rey Johnson and I think it’s very important that he makes just a little bit of time in his diary to speak to me.”

“Can you hold?” the other voice squeaked.

“With pleasure,” she smiled wickedly.

When she returned, the receptionist informed Rey that if she were to pop into the office during Mr Calrissian’s lunch break, he would be willing to speak to her. She sounded put out, in Rey’s opinion, and she wondered vaguely if Lando Calrissian was a short-tempered sort of man. She would have to brace herself for that - she wouldn’t let anyone, business hotshot or not, get the best of her over such an important case. And anyway, she was here to help.

She arrived at the skyrise known as Cloud City and pulled the patrol car into the underground car park for visitors. Catching the lift to the top floor, fifty levels up, where she had been informed she would be meeting Calrissian in his office, she took in the rather spectacular interior design of the place, all glass and polished metal surfaces reflecting the sun drifting sleepily over the sprawling city. Exiting the elevator was no different, the dazzlingly bright foyer refracting light in every direction. She approached the reception desk and gave the tall blonde behind it her name.

Ignoring the woman’s scowl, she waited for her to make the call to her boss informing him that his lunchtime appointment had arrived.

“Mr Calrissian will see you now,” she said in a pointed tone of voice and Rey didn’t bother to smile as she turned to make her way towards the door the woman had indicated.

She knocked lightly and a reverberating, deep voice called, “Come in,” before she pushed down on the handle and entered the private office.

Lando Calrissian was seated at his desk with his back to a wall of glass overlooking the city below. He rose to his feet as she entered, though Rey took careful note of his distinct lack of a smile or offer of a handshake or any of the usual performative niceties one might endeavour to make when meeting someone for the first time.

“Mr Calrissian, I’m Detective Inspector Rey Johnson, I believe I spoke with your receptionist -”

“Yeh, yeh, of course you did,” he cut across her, gesturing to the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Very much on her guard now, Rey kept her expression impassive, though it had rankled her to be interrupted. She slid into the chair he had indicated and waited for him to take his own seat once more before starting to speak again.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed, I’m here to talk about your daughter, Jannah. I’ve just come from her mother’s house and I thought it would be prudent to -”

“ _ ‘Prudent’ _ , huh?” he cut in. “Well, anything I can do to help your investigation, Detective Inspector Johnson, I’m all ears. I clearly have  _ plenty _ of time on my hands after all.”

_ Oh boy, _ Rey thought.  _ I’ve really got my work cut out with this guy. _

She schooled her features into a patient expression. “I’m sorry to take up some of your lunch break, Mr Calrissian, but as you know, it  _ is _ all in the efforts of finding your daughter as quickly as we can.”

He went straight on the offensive, clearly with little to no qualms about hiding the deep level of contempt he obviously held towards the police. “Forgive me if I don’t have an awful lot of faith in your people.”

She decided then, against her better judgement, to take a risk. “Coming from a man of business enterprise, Mr Calrissian, I find it interesting that you might find  _ me _ untrustworthy.”

He was silent for a long moment before his face broke out into a grin that seemed to surprise even himself. Hoping against hope that she had finally got her in with this guy, Rey waited for his evident amusement to subside before speaking. But then -

“How old are you?” he asked.

She blinked.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to the case at hand, Mr -.”

“Can you stop calling me ‘Mr Calrissian’? Are you trying to make me feel old?” he snapped. “Why are the Met Police sending a green girl like you, fresh out of school by the looks of it, to find my daughter? Shall I tell you?” He leaned in, all smiles gone, and it was all Rey could do not to rear back from him as he glared at her coldly. “Because they don’t give a  _ shit _ about a missing black girl.”

“Is that why you hired a private detective?” Rey asked, too shocked to address the accusations of her incompetence and the force’s institutional racism directly. He sniggered at her humorlessly.

“Look at you, you really did do the thing properly.”

“I’d like to go over some of the events leading up to Jannah’s disappearance,” she rushed, cheeks flushing. “Where were you on the night that your daughter went missing?”

She knew this was a mistake the moment it had left her lips. 

“If you want to play bad cop, little girl, you’re going to have to learn by example because bigger, nastier people than you haven’t managed to put the frighteners on me. And besides, if you suspect  _ me _ , you clearly have no evidence to the contrary, which means you have nothing of value to offer me. Please leave.”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate-” she stammered frustratedly.

“Who’s your boss?” he asked, leaning back in his chair with his fingers twined in his lap, and Rey felt the colour leave her face. Unexpectedly, he prompted, “Is it Leia Organa by any chance?”

Rey was so stunned that she only just kept her mouth from falling open. Calrissian huffed an empty chortle. “Makes sense.” 

It was at that point that a knock sounded on the office door, making her jump slightly. Taking a deep breath, Calrissian went on, “When you see her, tell her to give me a call instead of getting kids to front the operation to find my daughter.” His penetrating, almost accusatory gaze left hers as he barked, “Yes?” at the door.

It opened and Rey turned to see the man walking through it.

“Ben, good!” he sighed in apparent relief.

“Lando,” the man replied in a horribly familiar tone.

It was then that the newcomer’s eyes fell on her and he appeared to do a momentary double take, shocked - but by no means as shocked as Rey, whose mouth was hanging open in earnest now, completely aghast.

Kylo Ren seemed to recover himself then and asked, “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Absolutely not,” the older man enthused, turning to fix Rey with a cold glare. “We’re done here.”

Kylo Ren stepped forward, a little awkwardly, and took Calrissian’s outstretched hand in greeting. Rey got to her feet and swallowed dumbly, hating how out of control the situation had gotten.

“Actually Mr Calrrisian, I wasn’t quite finished -“

“Oh really?” he shot back, unfazed. “Because that doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. Now if you’d kindly see yourself out of my office, I’d be much obliged.”

She swallowed again, feeling the traitorous bubbling of hot tears in her eyes. She turned towards the door, intent on walking out before she let them fall in front of these two  _ arseholes _ .

On the threshold, something made her turn back and say in her steadiest, most even tone of voice, “Whatever your opinion might be of my organisation, Mr Calrissian, I’d like you to know that I’m going to do whatever it takes to help your daughter.”

He didn’t bother looking up to meet her gaze but she could feel Kylo Ren’s eyes on her quivering lower lip.

“Good for you,” Jannah’s father said with no small amount of contempt and, with that damning dismissal ringing in her ears, Rey bolted out of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, not too many notes this week!  
> Jannah's mum is an OC character and my personal casting for her in my head is Adjoa Andoh, but you can obviously picture whoever you like!  
> [Seff Hellin](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Seff_Hellin)  
> [Landonis Balthazar Calrissian](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Landonis_Balthazar_Calrissian)  
> (please don't hate on the man for handing Rey's arse to her, he's having a very bad time, bless him.)  
> [Cloud City](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Cloud_City)
> 
> Rey's face when Kylo turns up is that surprised Pikachu meme. I know I keep saying this but... _next time_ we will officially be getting some good Reylo interaction ;)
> 
> That's all for now! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed the update :)  
> Leave me a comment and/or kudos, I love hearing from you guys!


	5. First Order Apartments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed the Monday update yesterday, been a weird week!  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, it was a lot of fun to write and contains one of my earlier scenes from when I first developed the story.  
> As always, keep an eye on the tags - they like to change. And if at any point I've missed off a tag that you think is important, please _please_ let me know. I'd rather have it pointed out now than have someone read something they're not comfortable with because there wasn't proper warning.

And there’s a knife in my back  
And blood on your hands  
I won’t listen to your dogma

**\- Koda**

* * *

Rey’s head was still reeling when she pulled into the police station’s gated carpark. The whole drive back from Cloud City, she had been unable to keep from replaying the events that had unfolded in Lando Calrissian’s top floor office: how he had sneered at her, belittled her, accused her and her organisation of being untrustworthy, how  _ Kylo Ren  _ of all people had just -  _ showed up _ like it was nothing, how everything had spun out of control so quickly,  _ so quickly _ , how she had almost cried. Cried in front of two grown men whom she was supposed to remain composed in front of while managing a serious case.

She felt so stupid and small and  _ ashamed _ .

Sitting in the squad car, she drew in a shuddering breath and allowed a wave of misery that she had tenuously held at bay the whole journey back to suddenly wash over her in full force. Her anguish demanded to be heard, felt, and she was unable to prevent the flood of tears that finally bubbled to the surface and streamed down her checks in hot torrents.

She tried not to sob. She knew from experience that sobbing led to wailing and wailing led to hyperventilating and before she knew, she would be having a full blown panic attack if she didn’t get a hold of herself. Corralling all of her discipline, she allowed the salty wetness to escape the corners of her eyes while keeping her breath as steady and even as possible. It was a Herculean effort to keep her body from shuddering, but after a couple of minutes of controlled breathing and allowing her distress to fall into her lap like rain, she straightened her back, unfurled her stiff fingers from around the steering wheel and wiped her face clean.

“Enough,” she whispered into the quiet car.

Growing up in care, you didn’t make it through the system without learning how to push down your pain in record time and Rey was no exception. She’d had far worse tongue-lashings from scarier motherfuckers than Lando Calrissian when she was growing up, and she wasn’t about to give the old bastard the satisfaction of making her doubt herself - even if he was clearly in a lot of pain himself. She was no one’s punching bag.

She was going to buckle down and solve this case. Somewhere out in the world, there was a missing woman and whether she had vanished intentionally out of the life she had carved for herself or had been ripped from it unwillingly, Rey was going to find out.

And she had a hunch: the more she found out about this hired private detective of Calrissian’s, the more answers she would find that she might not be able to elsewhere.

So, to business.

Upstairs in CID, she lowered herself into her desk chair, first having splashed her face with copious amounts of cool water in the disabled toilet cubicle, and powered up her computer monitor. 

She stared at the open search page of her browser, the cursor blinking at her expectantly as she tried to decide where to begin.

She typed into the search bar: ‘Lando Calrissian’

The results didn’t bring up much that she hadn’t already known, but she copied some information into a document anyway for future reference. Most of the links led to business affiliated sites, details on his role as CEO of his company  _ Cloud City Inc _ , as well as more than one article about a history which could only be described as that of a . 

One particular piece was a feature interview with Lando himself from a blog called  _ Intrepid Inc _ read:

_ ‘While he now cuts a figure of effortless charm and uncalculated style, Mr Calrissian’s past life may come as a shock to some. Prior to forming his now multi-million sterling media company - dealing predominantly in the marketing, sale and export of elite sports cars - his previous occupations have varied from a wide array of activities many would consider to be less than above board. In particular, Calrissian was rather infamous in his youth among the gambling tables of London’s most elite backroom poker games. _

_ “I’m not about to tell you the hustle is my life,” says Mr Calrissian, leaning back on the golden banquette and swirling the contents of his martini glass. “Everybody’s gotta make ends meet in the best way that can.  _ Life _ is a hustle, that’s what I’m trying to say. I ain’t no different to the next family man - and it when it comes to family, it’s all cards on the table, you see what I mean?” _

_ Cards on the table indeed. While the exact figure can never be known for sure, Calrissian’s total gambling winnings are suspected to total in excess of half a million pounds.’ _

No wonder he didn’t rub along too well with law and order. Rey gritted her teeth, screenshotting the article and pasting it into her document before deciding she needed to try something more specific if she was going to track down this mysterious PI.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed in another google search: ‘Lando Calrissian Ben Solo’

Ms Ackie had said that this ‘Ben Solo’ character had been an old family friend, the son of Lando’s supposed best friend. After scrolling through a few sites which inevitably led to dead ends, she finally spotted a link to what appeared to be the domain of a gossip rag reporting on high society events. Clicking on it, Rey scrolled through the article which detailed the happenings of a Formula 1 after party, complete with pictures of many a racecar driver amongst other celebrities holding champagne glasses and chatting animatedly, all while dressed to the nines _. _ Rey suppressed a scowl that threatened to overtake her features; she had a strong dislike for the frivolities of rich people that she had never fully been able to shake, though she had often reasoned that this grudge was admittedly rather unfair of her. The rich and famous could hardly help being wealthy after all - it took all sorts to make up a world - but it disturbed a part of her that certain people could have so much when others, herself and Finn for starters, had to fight to survive.

About halfway down the page, an image of a much younger Lando Calrissian grinned easily back at her with his arm firmly around the shoulders of another man, a little shorter in stature and with the beginnings of crows feet at the corners of his warm eyes. Squinting, Rey read the caption beneath:

_ Business tycoon, Lando Calrissian (left) pictured with lifelong best friend, ex-RAF pilot turned amatuer racer, Han Solo. _

So this must be the detective’s father. She made another note in her slowly growing document before looking back at the new face of the man in the photograph. He had typically handsome features - for someone twice her age, that was - but who didn’t appreciate a silver fox? His brow was strong and imposing, his dark eyes glinting hazel and tinged with flecks of turquoise. He had a strong, shapely jaw and nose, a tiny silver hoop in his earlobe, and the roguish smirk on his face was kind of to die for.

It reminded her of somebody.

Rey’s entire body seized, eyes going wide as she stared at Han Solo’s younger self.

_ Surely not? Surely the universe wasn’t that savage? Surely? _

Her fingertips drifted across the keyboard as she typed in the words: Kylo Ren

The first result led her directly to the homepage of a discreet website, the title of which bore the legend:

_ Kylo Ren, Private Investigator. _

*

_ Ben.  _ Lando had called Kylo Ren ‘ _ Ben’ _ in his office before. Rey had simply pushed it out of her mind, given the state of her distress and confusion.

_ Now, _ however, everything was beginning to fall into place.

The motherfucker had an  _ alias.  _ Last night, the guy she had tackled, the guy who had been a fucking  _ dick _ to her - the guy she had imagined doing all sorts of unspeakable things to her in bed - was Kylo Ren, PI by day and to those who knew him personally, he was none other than Ben Solo, the man who was looking for Jannah Calrissian at her father’s entreaty.

“Fucking  _ shit,” _ she breathed.

“Alright, Johnson?” asked DS Connix from her desk.

Rey nodded, mouth still hanging open. It was at that point that DCI Dameron entered the office with the air of a strong gale, apparently in some sort of hurry. His hands were buried deep in his pockets, something he usually only ever did when he was feeling taciturn and pensieve. She even thought twice about approaching him in this manner when he was so clearly in foul spirits, but this was important and he  _ was _ her mentor afterall, had said that if she  _ needed _ anything she could come to him. So she swallowed her discomfort and rose to her feet.

“Chief?” she said, voice straining a little from lack of use. His gaze flickered towards her and though he continued his usual path towards the annex, his posture indicated that it was alright for her to accompany him. She skipped hurriedly out from behind her desk and made to follow him, beginning to speak as soon as they were close enough together that their voices could not be heard by others.

Cutting right to the chase, she said, “I interviewed Jannah Calrissian’s mother this morning.”

“And?” he grunted expectantly.

“And not much, mostly tidbits about Jannah’s character: minor cannabis use, regular attendee of these environmental protests - pretty exclusively actually. Mum seems to think she’d just fallen in with the wrong crowd - she doesn’t think much of the event organisers - but I assume she isn’t aware of any further drug use, or at least she’s not willing to admit it.”

“What have I told you about assumptions?” he asked in clipped tones.

Rey frowned and said quickly, “They make an ass of you and me, I know, sir. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“Well?”

“She told me that the father, Lando Calrissian, a businessman in the city, separated from the family since Jannah was little, has hired a private investigator.”

“To look into her disappearance?”

She nearly rolled her eyes. Nearly. “Yes.”

“Interesting.”

“But that’s not all, sir. I think - I  _ know _ that this PI is the guy from the attempted assault I was at last night.”

At that, Poe stopped in his tracks and Rey rocked on her heels at the sudden brake. He turned to look at her now rather than keeping his eyes ahead.

“You what?”

“It’s the guy from the -”

“I heard you the first time, I’m asking how you know.”

“Well,” Rey began, biting her tongue so as not to scowl at his attitude. “Ms Ackie told me it was the guy’s name is Ben Solo.  _ But  _ that’s just his birth name, he uses an alias for his detective work, which is the name he gave me last night,  _ Kylo Ren _ .”

“He’s looking into a missing person’s case and just so happened to also be present during an attempted assault?”

“Right? So I did some digging. Lando Calrissian, as I said, is a businessman, CEO of a company called  _ Cloud City Inc,  _ bit of a tycoon, lots and lots of money and investments under his belt. And - permission to assume here, sir - that probably isn’t something his daughter was very  _ proud _ of, being -”

“A pot-loving hippie,” Poe interjected, following her train of thought. "Go on.” 

“Right. So Mr Calrissian happens to be very good friends with a chap called Han Solo, an RAF vet turned amatuer racecar driver. Looks like a bit of a lovable rogue, if you like that sort of thing -”

“Faster, Johnson.”

“Right - and when I saw a picture of Solo -  _ Han _ Solo, that is - he just looked familiar and it’s a million to one but I just thought I’d check, just in case and - well, I searched the name ‘Kylo Ren’ and lo and behold, he has a detective firm.  _ They’re the same person. _ ”

Poe was frowning deeply and rubbed his forehead, seemingly pained. “So the guy that was in here last night, he’s working our case?”

Rey almost corrected him, ‘ _ my _ case’ but managed to stop herself just in time. “Yes, sir.”

Poe’s eyes flickered to the DSI’s office door then, seemingly considering something. He turned back to Rey, eyes flint sharp, but his voice was the usual self-assured drawl. “Well, whatever happens, stay away from this Solo guy.”

“Han Solo?”

“No, the other guy, the son,” he responded, sounding a little exasperated. Rey opened her mouth in question, confused as to why her DCI didn’t want her to interview someone who could potentially prove to be an intriguing lead. 

“Sir?”

“Look, Rey, if this guy is on our case too, fine, let him do his thing. But  _ you _ , stay out of it. PI’s are notorious for being a liability in any investigation. We stay as far away from them in the field as possible, you understand? They work on their own, foul up their own shitty detective work while we get the real work done, okay?”

“But sir, what if he finds out something, knows something that could help us?”

“We let him play his little game of Danger Mouse and as soon as he finds any evidence of criminality, he is  _ legally obliged  _ to report it - or else, he’s an accessory. He has dirt? He literally  _ has _ to let us know by law. So, don’t waste time chasing him when he’s got shit all because the moment he gets anything, he’ll have to come to us anyway. Don’t sweat it. You’ll get your guy for this, Rey.”

“I thought I was supposed to be getting Jannah back safe, not ‘getting my guy’, Chief,” she intoned rather coolly. Poe shrugged a shoulder, clearly over the conversation now.

“Sure, kiddo. Just do as I say and stay away from the PI, alright? They all think they’re hot shit when most of their time is spent tailing cheating housewives and wishing they’d had enough discipline to make it into the force for real.”

Rey wanted to snap at him to never call her  _ kiddo _ again but decided it wasn’t worth it.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ve talked to the dad? This Calrissian guy?” 

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled, remembering all too vividly said talk.

“Good. You could even speak to this ‘Ham’ guy, if it makes you feel better. Just stay away Kylo Ren, alright?”

*

The slip of paper next to the buzzer read:

_ K. Ren, PI. _

It was the next day and Rey had spent a significant chunk of her office hours weighing up the pros and cons of deliberately doing the opposite of what her DCI had told her to. But she had a feeling about this Ren guy, or Ben Solo, or whatever the hell his name was, and she felt it in her gut that it was something she needed to see through to its natural fruition, wherever that may lead.

And besides, Poe Dameron didn’t need to know a damn thing.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed the silver button next to his flat number and waited.

“Yeh?” came an American accent.

_ Good _ , Rey thought.  _ At least I won’t have to deal with another receptionist. _

“I’m looking for Kylo Ren, Private Investigator, is he available?”

There was a pause during which she hoped he didn’t recognise the sound of her voice; she had been a little worried that if she revealed her identity before gaining access to the building, he might not let her in. This was, of course, technically against protocol, but she was only there for a little  _ chat _ , one professional to another. It wasn’t like this guy was under any suspicion.

So far.

“I’ll buzz you up. Top of the stairs,” replied the voice, tinny over the aged intercom, and a moment later there was the sound of a claxon as the front door to the flat was unlocked electrically from upstairs. She pushed on the door and stepped over the threshold.

There was nothing on the lower level of the building but an empty hallway with a narrow staircase. The majority of the offices must be based on the upper levels, so Rey followed the instructions Solo had given her and made her way all the way to the top floor, only a little out of breath after three flights of creaky wooden steps. Her shoes had clicked against the smooth surface the whole way up, like a ticking clock.

The door to the office was a shabby affair, coated in chipping brown varnish with a frosted glass window and a plaque reading:

__ Kylo Ren  
_ Private Investigator  
_ __ Floor 3, First Order Aparts.

She rapped her knuckles confidently on the glass and that  _ voice _ that she was growing a little too familiar with called out, “Come in.”

_ Showtime, _ she thought to herself, cricking her neck and twisting the door handle.

It wasn’t exactly spacious living. It was more reminiscent of the set of one of those old film noirs from the 1930s than an actual modern, functioning office space. It was neat but was  _ tiny _ . Comically so, in fact, given the sheer size of the man himself, squeezed behind a desk against the back wall which faced away from a wide panelled window. If it had been any other time or place, she might have laughed.

However, when Solo looked up, the look of disgruntled satisfaction on his face made laughter the furthest thing from her mind.

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk.

“I thought it was you,” he said, picking up a handful of A4 paper and tucking it away in a desk drawer. “Recognised your voice.”

“Recognised yours,” she countered, eyeing those large hands as they folded together on top of the work surface. He extended one briefly, offering her a seat.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked in a tone of obviously feigned breeziness as she lowered herself into the chair on the other side of the desk. She shook her head. “What can I do you for, DI Johnson?”

“I think you know why I’m here,” she said evenly. “Mr Solo.”

His expression gave nothing away but Rey took note of the fact that he didn’t move a muscle as he eyed her, frozen in place, like an animal trying to discern whether or not a predator was about to pounce. “Am I supposed to be impressed?” he asked coolly. 

“By the sound of your own name? Why would you be?”

He smirked. “You’ve clearly come here for some sort of pissing matching. What do you want, a cock fight? Are we supposed to subtly undermine each other until one of us concedes ownership of the Jannah Calrissian case?”

“So you  _ are _ investigating her disappearance,” Rey said, trying to keep the triumphant edge out of her voice. Solo rolled his eyes.

“You know I am,” he replied, enunciating every syllable impatiently. “Or why would you be here?”

“I admit I was pretty shocked to bump into you in Lando Calrissian’s office yesterday. Once I had though, the pieces started to fall together pretty quickly.”

“So? What do you want?”

“To make a few things clear.” She shuffled forward slightly in her seat, perching right on the edge and drawing herself up as much as possible. He was still easily a head taller than her, even slumped over the desk as he was, but the straightness of her back lent her an extra dose of pride. “While I can’t stop you from running your own investigation on behalf of the Calrissian family, I am obliged to remind you that if you discover any information pertaining to the wellbeing and or whereabouts of the victim, you will be expected to contact the Metropolitan Police. In this case, that’s me.”

He scratched his chin, dotted with the shadows of patchy stubble.

“Out of interest, is this your first independent case?” he asked.

She would  _ not _ let him rattle her like Calrissian had done yesterday. She fucking well would  _ not _ .

She chose to ignore the question entirely.

“Jannah Calrissian’s disappearance is my main focus at this time and until she is found, that will remain to be the case. All I want, as I’m sure you do too, is to find her safe and sound and to deliver her home to her loved ones. If you, as a civilian member of the public, have  _ any _ information as to where she might be now or in the future, I am duty bound to remind you that you must report that to the authorities immediately.”

A flicker of annoyance burned in the set of his jaw then and Rey stared at the corner of his mouth, hyper aware of his teeth clenching behind taut lips.

“Until any hard evidence of criminal activity has come to light,” he began in a dangerously soft tone of voice. “I categorically do  _ not _ have to divulge  _ any _ information to you whatsoever. And since we’re  _ reminding  _ one another of things, I might as well point out that so far, this is still a missing persons case and  _ not _ a criminal investigation.”

Her tone was heated when she next spoke, irritated at his pigheadedness.

“Just because there isn’t any evidence  _ so far _ of criminal wrongdoing or foul play doesn’t mean that there won’t turn out to be in the future. What if, because of your stubbornness in not turning over important information to the police, Jannah is harmed in some way?”

Solo actually pointed a long index finger at her then.

“I am not affiliated with you or your organisation and therefore I do not need to share sensitive information about my case work to you.” His voice was a low, angry hiss.

Composure flying out of the dirty window behind him at this man’s utter mulishness, Rey cried, “What the hell do you have against the police?”

He snorted derisively. “That could take a while so forgive me if I ignore the question - unless…” He fixed her with a narrowed gaze and she had the distinct impression that he was making fun of her by the way his mouth curved into a nasty little grin. “Unless that’s what this is, DI Johnson? An interrogation? Perhaps you think I’m guilty?”

Her own eyes narrowed in challenge. “Why would you say that?” she asked flatly.

“Because I’ve had previous with botched police work and I cannot in good faith or  _ conscience _ trust a single member of your organisation.” He spoke the words with fervent animosity, teeth bared at her, all trace of sadistic amusement gone from his face.

Rey’d had just about  _ e-fucking-nough _ of this man’s lip. Standing, she turned towards the door, taking only three steps before she had reached the threshold of the office.

Turning back to face him from where she stood as her fingers hovered over the door handle, she decided to leave him with a parting warning.

“I don’t take pleasure in putting good people away for stupid mistakes, Mr Solo. But I will, because a young woman’s life is very possibly in jeopardy right now and I intend to remedy that. For the last time, if you know anything that indicates this investigation to be potentially criminal in nature and you fail to make contact with me or my colleagues, you  _ will _ be held accountable by law for conspiring to cover up vital evidence. It doesn’t matter how much you might want to save the day all on your own; glory doesn’t come into it. You  _ will _ be charged as an accessory.”

To her immense annoyance, he chortled at her again, leaning back in his desk chair. “I’m clearly not the one who has a diet for  _ glory _ , Little Miss Crack-The-Case.”

_ Aaaand _ there went her self control.

“Fuck off, Sherlock Holmes,” she spat viciously.

He laughed out loud at that, looking a jot taken aback by her sudden outburst. “Look at you: a model of professionalism.”

She approached him swiftly, all but putting her hand on his desk as she got within a few inches of his smug face, index finger jabbing in the air towards his chest.

“I  _ am _ a fucking professional,” she seethed. “And  _ you _ are a washed-up, back-street trader of secrets and lies. Good fucking day, Solo.”

She was halfway down the stairs when she heard his response.

“Take it easy, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love it when they fight, don't you? ;)
> 
> No notes to speak of today, but if you have any queries or comments, drop them down below!  
> I love hearing from you all and I'm gonna get back to some of the lovely responses people have posted right after this. You're support and feedback and kudos is so so so valuable and appreciated <3
> 
> You can also find me on Twitter [@BrightBlackTree](https://twitter.com/BrightBlackTree)! I generally post about all things Reylo but lately I've been going wild making manips. Perhaps I'll make one for this fic next...?
> 
> Until next week!  
> Love to you all  
> Anaïs xo


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